


Safety in the Workplace

by Amber_and_Ash



Series: Variants on the Theme of Dead Air [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s08e05 Dead Air, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_and_Ash/pseuds/Amber_and_Ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing goes wrong during the events of Dead Air, but it could have. When Tony files a complaint, Internal Affairs takes matters considerably more seriously than he'd intended. Not a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were stories about the type of people who worked for Internal Affairs. None of them were nice. Sam Miller had known about them before he joined and had suffered under them ever since. People accused him of being a rat, of being a petty dictator, of hating honest agents trying to do their jobs. Sam let them. He wanted to do the job he did. He knew it was people like him who kept honest agents honest.

It was like when a kid stole things from their own parents. The first time might not indicate any moral turpitude, but you couldn't just ignore it. Leave it long enough and you had a kid who thought they were entitled to take anything they wanted from anyone they wanted. In Sam's opinion, it was too late to turn their lives around by the time they were out stealing cars. You had to slap their wrists when they were still reaching for the cookie jar. Sam's mission in life was to slap wrists. When he stopped someone letting a friend off a speeding ticket, he felt he was doing more to keep the entire system honorable and effective than when he convicted someone of being on the books of organized crime, or kicked someone out for uncontrollable addiction. Sure, they looked more impressive, but stopping them simply treated a symptom. Stopping their enablers treated a cause.

So he didn’t roll his eyes and rubberstamp a finding when he was asked to investigate an unsafe work environment in which no one had yet been hurt. He dived into it with gusto.

His partner Featherstone was accustomed to his upside-down priorities, and didn’t raise too much fuss. Within days of receiving the complaint, they were sitting down in a quiet, anonymous place with the whistle-blower.

“It would help us out if you could walk us through the events from the very beginning, if you would, Agent DiNozzo.”

DiNozzo was more lying in the chair than sitting, but the casualness was a little too studied to be convincing. “Agents McGee, David, and I were sent to gather voice-prints of the Royal Woods neighbourhood. We were all wired up with Abby specials.”

“Abby specials?”

DiNozzo managed a shrug, despite his posture. “Sorry, a nickname for our multipurpose communication sets. They allow for transmitting and receiving between sets, as well as recording and storing all sound in range of each set. The two are on different systems – that is, you can record even if you’re not sending, and vice versa.”

“These technical specifications?” asked Sam, unearthing a paper from the pile. DiNozzo nodded. “Go on.”

“I began interviewing residents while Agents McGee and David remained in the car.”

“Who decided on that distribution of tasks?”

“Agent Gibbs. Actually…”

Sam was amused to watch DiNozzo close his eyes and semi-act out the event with his body.

“No one said anything aloud. Agent Gibbs was looking at me when he suggested the approach, and I think we all just took it for granted that I would be the person going from door to door.”

“Was that because of your experience working undercover?”

“No, not really. I just find it easiest to get people to talk.”

“According to this, you lost your voice to overuse.”

“Temporarily, yes.”

“Was there any discussion about splitting the voice collection duties?”

“No, that would have been too dangerous. One person looking to buy in the area was suspicious enough. Multiple people would have raised too many red flags.”

Sam noted that. DiNozzo seemed pretty convinced there was nothing untoward in his story so far, but Sam would double-check his assumptions anyway. Leaving the senior-most officer to do what filled the most literal definition of 'leg-work' did seem unusual, even considering the danger involved. Where there was one irregularity, there were often other irregularities.

“Thank you. Please continue.”

“We left our comms on the default settings of recording everything. In addition, I set mine to continuously transmit, while McGee and David left theirs to only transmit on activation of a button.”

“Why did you chose the transmission settings?”

“I wanted to be always audible in case I ran into problems so that I didn't have to risk breaking cover. That wouldn't have been possible if more than one of us was undercover, because of possible conflict, but the situation allowed for it this time. Tim and Ziva would only transmit if absolutely neccesary to avoid distracting me.”

“Were you anticipating problems?”

DiNozzo tilted his hand in a so-so motion. “It was a gated community and I would be within sight of witnesses most of the time. I wasn’t going to be making any arrests, which is usually the riskiest moment in operations like these. On the other hand, it was a suspected terrorist organisation that had proved willing to kill witnesses. Let’s say that I was relieved to have backup, but I would have gone in alone if that had been required it.”

“So when did you discover you didn’t have the backup you had been expecting?”

“I had an indication when I returned to the car, although I didn’t realise it fully. Agents David and McGee made a comment suggesting they had not been listening to me.”

“That’s this piece of conversation, correct?”

Sam hit play on the prepared file.

“ _Don't play dumb. You revelled in every minute of my suburban suffering.”_

“ _Actually, no, we've been not listening for the last couple hours.”_

“ _One can only stand your voice for so long.”_

“ _Did you talk to everyone?”_

“ _All 43 residents, including the entire cast of American Beauty in a nice bikini and The Stepford Wives.”_

“That’s correct.”

“You did not question them about the matter. Why not?”

“At the time, I believed they meant ‘not listening’ in the sense of not paying much attention. I thought they meant they hadn’t been keeping track of whether I had a full set of voice samples. I didn’t think they meant in the sense of literally not having being able to hear me.”

Featherstone contributed for the first time, leaning forward. “Didn’t you consider them being unaware of your physical location to be a problem by itself?”

DiNozzo shrugged, his discomfort showing. “Yeah, it’s a problem. But it wasn’t a big enough problem to report them for, and it wasn’t going to do any good to make a fuss about it.”

“You’re SFA on the team, are you not? Isn’t it your job to correct junior members of the team when they make mistakes?”

DiNozzo’s shoulders were hunched up now, and he didn’t even try to make eye contact with Featherstone. “I’ve been instructed not to by my Supervisory Agent. He believes they have sufficient experience now to make their own mistakes.”

“I see,” said Featherstone, leaning back. His tone wasn’t particularly judgmental, but DiNozzo still flinched.

Sam resumed the train of the interview. “Returning to the matter of the transmissions, when did you start to think there was more to it?”

“When I arrived back at the lab, although I was too busy with the case to pay much attention at the time. You see, I realised that I’d forgotten to switch it off ‘permanent transmit’ when I was physically present, and neither agent had complained about feedback. At full volume, that would have been physically painful.”

“Is that when you examined the recordings from their own sets?”

“When the case was finished, yeah. I'd gone home already, but the thing was keeping me from falling asleep, you know? So when I remembered that we'd never set their sets _not_ to record, I figured it was worth checking.”

“And that’s when you discovered their mikes didn’t pick up your voice from about ten minutes in?”

“That’s correct.”

“Why did you not file a complaint against the two agents immediately?”

“I wanted to find out what happened from them first. There was— there still is a possibility that there was an innocent explanation.”

There's still an innocent explanation? Like what, mind control by aliens? Sam kept his disbelief out of his expression. “Why don't we come back to that later. Can you tell me what happened when you attempted to talk to them about it?”

Sam fingered the documents DiNozzo had supplied, but he'd had a hard time accepting them at face value.

“When I attempted to bring it up informally, they dismissed me and Special Agent Gibbs ordered me to concentrate on the new case. I waited until that case was resolved and booked a conference room to make the importance of the matter clear. They didn't arrive, and when I questioned them the said that Agent Gibbs was perfectly satisfied with their conduct and any meeting had been unnecessary. To be frank, I didn't entirely believe them. That’s why I got McGee to sign that statement,” DiNozzo said, nodding at the document Sam was still playing with. “When Gibbs heard me doing that, he tore me a new one for wasting everyone's time and for messing with his people instead of going to him.”

Featherstone chipped in agaub, “Why _didn't_ you go to Special Agent Gibbs?”

“Actually, I tried twice, much earlier on – before the meeting even. A third time would have been painful— I mean, unwise.”

Sam's focus sharpened. That was a rather disturbing slip-up, but not one he wanted to pursue just yet.

“Anyway, Gibbs told me he wasn't a kindergarten teacher and I needed to sort out my own problems. Yeah, I am aware of the contradiction in that. Unless he meant I needed to stop _having_ a problem, which frankly, he could have.”

Featherstone took over the questions, asking about motivations and procedures and historical behaviour. Sam sat back to watch them. DiNozzo's body language was getting jumpier, and it wasn't because Featherstone was playing bad cop.

“You've said 'tried' and 'attempted' and the like a great many times. Did Agent Gibbs ever say anything to confirm he understood what your concern was?”

DiNozzo frowned and ruffled his hair. “I don't... no? I mean, not to me.”

“So is it possible he still isn't aware of the substance of your complaint?”

“Even if he wasn't paying attention to me, he must have discussed it with McGee. I mean, they effectively disobeyed Gibbs's orders by not backing me up, so they must have had a kick-ass excuse to explain why they didn't get in trouble.”

“Isn't it more likely that McGee and David were not in trouble because Gibbs never realised they'd disobeyed orders?”

It was clear that DiNozzo didn't like that conclusion, but after a minute, he nodded. “Yeah, I guess that's possible.”

“If you found out that was true, would you withdraw your complaint against Agent Gibbs and refile it against Agents McGee and David instead?”

“Gods, no. Gibbs would kill me. Filing against him is one thing, going after one of his people is something else entirely.”

Sam added that to his list of worrying signs.

DiNozzo frowned and continued. “But if I knew that Gibbs didn't know, I might have tried asking Ducky or Fornell to speak to him about it first.”

“Ducky or Fornell?”

“Ah, Doctor Mallard or Agent Fornell from the FBI. They’re friends with Gibbs, so they might have managed it. Although really, the substance of my complaint isn't changed either way.”

“That, ah... 'the supervisory agent is negligently creating an unsafe work environment'.”

“Yes. Gibbs isn't always around to give orders, so by preventing the SFA from issuing any, he's risking everyone's lives. I think Agent Gibbs has lost sight of that. It’s being getting worse and worse.”

“And you haven't considered simply leaving the team?”

DiNozzo bent his head and closed down his body language. No more cocky sprawl.

“I have, but I know it isn't just going to be me. Believe it or not, Gibbs has been better about delegating to me that he ever was about any of all his previous agents. It's just lately he’s been slipping back into old habits. The SFA needs to be able to question and discipline agents about field matters in order to trust them in the field. If someone relies on someone when they shouldn't have, or doesn't rely on someone when they needed to, things get messy. I'm not really expecting this complaint to help me much, but I am hoping it will make an impact on Gibbs.”

“Do you believe he will take a complaint seriously?”

“Not a complaint in general, no. His file is an amazing patchwork of complaints and recommendations, so one more isn't going to change anything. But the fact that _I'm_ complaining will disturb him. I'm supposed to be the loyal one, you see.”

“Are you intending to transfer teams after this investigation is complete?”

DiNozzo laughed painfully. “Look, we all know better than that. No-one’s going to hire some guy who ratted out his boss to IA. Not anywhere within law enforcement. Lodging a complaint would be the stupidest way to get a transfer short of committing a felony. If Gibbs won’t keep me after this, I’ll be rethinking my career possibilities.”

“Do you hope to remain in your current role, then?”

“I hope to. I don’t expect to. Gibbs isn’t the most forgiving of men.”

Sam added that to his list of 'worrying signs'. The total made him twitch. He looked over at Featherstone, who nodded in reply.

“I think we have enough for now, Agent DiNozzo. Thank you for your time, and we will let you know our continuing progress as appropriate.”

Sam escorted him to the front of the building and then walked with Featherstone to their own offices.

“Well?” asked Sam.

“Something's going wrong there, that's for sure. We'll need to investigate a bit deeper to find out precisely what, though.”

“I think we should leave talking to Gibbs until last. I’d like as much background as I can. You take Agent David, and I'll take Agent McGee?” asked Sam.

Featherstone nodded, and Sam sat down to arrange it. They'd want to get to grips with this as soon as possible while memories were still fresh.


	2. Chapter 2

They split up for the next set of interviews. They were just preliminary after all, and it kept the agency happier if they kept the amount of time the team was out of action to a minimum. The interviews didn't need the same level of discretion as the initial one with DiNozzo, but Sam still liked to make as little fuss as possible and keep a lid on things. Perhaps that had left them sounding a little mysterious. It was the only explanation Sam could come up with for Agent McGee’s attitude.

“What’s this about, then?” asked Agent McGee, nosing his way into the bland HR consulting room with the air of a dog suspicious of being called to visit the vet.

“Just a few simple questions about a recent case, Agent McGee. We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

“Is this one of Tony’s jokes? Because really, it isn’t funny—“

It was a bizarre conclusion to reach. It spoke to both paranoia on McGee’s part and a history of trust issues between the two men. It was mentally added to his ‘worrying signs’ list. “It is not a joke, Agent McGee. You should have been informed of this meeting from the Director's office.”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Agent McGee, please. The quicker we get started, the quicker we can both get back to the rest of our day.”

The young agent reluctantly sat down, looking like he was about to bolt out the door at the least provocation.

“This is still part of a fact-finding investigation, but you are entitled to have your union representative or lawyer present. Do you wish to make arrangements for that now?”

The boy looked so horrified that Sam was surprised when he turned down the offer. In his experience, when an agent suddenly realised that they might actually be in trouble, they tended to jump on the chance to delay things and find support.

“No! No lawyers, thank you.”

“Alright. If you could just talk us through what happened when you accompanied Agent DiNozzo while taking voice prints in the Royal Woods area. We have your report, but we're hoping for more detail in the kind of nebulous impressions you had that wouldn't necessarily want to write down.” That was usually a safe enough opening to get someone to talk about a case. No-one agent would include their hunches and personal opinions of witnesses into documentation that might eventually go to a defence attorney, but that didn’t mean they didn’t want to share their knowledge with the rest of the law enforcement community.

McGee frowned. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, nothing much to say. We parked out of the way, and Tony – that is, Agent DiNozzo – walked around the neighbourhood, talking to the residents. It took him something like three hours. During that time, no one approached the car or acted suspiciously in any way. Agent DiNozzo returned to the car, and we returned to the Navy Yard.”

Nothing to confirm or deny DiNozzo’s accusation, but it was somewhat notable that McGee had only spoken about the activities around the car. Perhaps it was time for a few leading questions. “You were wearing a full communication set, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Were there any problems with the set? Could you hear Agent DiNozzo clearly?”

“No, no problems.”

No bite. One more before he started getting pointed. “So you were hearing Agent DiNozzo at full volume the entire time?”

The boy squirmed, and Sam rather hoped McGee wasn’t this obvious when confronting suspects. DiNozzo might have had a point about keeping him away from undercover activities.

“Well, not _full_ volume all the time. I turned it down a little so I could answer Agent David.”

“How much is ‘a little’? Could you still hear all his words? Most words?”

“I would have heard him if he’d raised his voice or encountered problems.”

“I see.” Sam paused at that unconcerned admission of wrong-doing. Something wasn’t right here. “Did you inform him of this?”

“Well, no. Why would I?”

Was McGee honestly asking that? “Perhaps so that he’d be aware he would need to raise his voice if he did need assistance? So that he’d know that asking for help in an undertone so as not to alarm the suspect was not going to be effective?”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. That’s… _did_ anything happen?”

Sam had been slowly winding up at McGee’s absurd disregard, but this evidence of concern allowed him to relax back into a more professional attitude. “Not this time, no. Both you and Agent DiNozzo were extraordinarily fortunate.”

“Me?”

“If something had occurred, I can guarantee you this interview would have been a great deal more unpleasant for you. Shall we move on to Agent Gibbs’ reaction to this breach of procedure?”

McGee pressed one hand against his stomach. “He didn’t know about any of this stuff. He’s going to kill me.”

“Really? We do have a signed statement by you that your actions during this case were fully supported by Agent Gibbs. Was this statement mistaken?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean ,I did sign the statement, but I didn’t realise it was about… about… about this. I thought Tony wanted to complain about being made to do all the… the… the voice recordings himself. Oh God. Oh God.”

Sam took in McGee’s sudden degradation in fluency and his equally degraded complexion and poured him a glass of water. He was tempted to bring him a bucket as well. Sam watched the man teeter on the edge of hyperventilation with growing concern. One of Sam’s biggest flaws in the role was that he hated to see agent’s in distress. He could usually restrain his impulses during an interrogation, but this was pushing his buttons. He didn’t have any difficulties with the arrogance and the aggression he usually dealt with, but he always felt like he’d done something wrong when someone broke under questioning. This time confused him as well as disturbed him, because he really hadn’t pushed very hard. McGee was a major-crime federal agent, so for him to be panicking this easily meant that something was seriously wrong. Sam couldn’t imagine it was in reaction to his fairly softball questions. Independent of his emotions, Sam’s logic was telling him that he wasn’t going to discover anymore now, though. Time to wrap it up. He’d already heard enough to know that he’d need to do a lot more investigating than a single interview would provide.

Sam assisted McGee to the door and went to join Featherstone, who was already finished. “That didn’t take you long.”

“I didn’t want to jeopardise things if we decided to lay charges against her. Same with you?”

“No, actually. He admitted to it and then fell apart - too distraught to continue. I tell you, the dynamics of that team are really starting to concern me. What did David give you?”

“One, apparently it’s Da-veed, and it was a sign of my lack of intelligence and/or competence that I didn't already know that. Two, Agent Da-veed is the one they send in if there is any really danger, so any complaints by Tony are just him whining like a crying infant. And three, in Mossad they do not waste an operative’s time by having them babysit other operatives, but she does as she is asked without complaint even when it is such a waste of her considerable skills.”

“That’s… interesting?”

“I let her control the direction of the interview. It did make the whole experience rather surreal. She voluntarily confirmed that they were not listening to DiNozzo, and that Agent Gibbs would not permit DiNozzo to enforce discipline in pretty much any circumstance. She found it laughable that anyone other than Gibbs himself would attempt to tell her what to do.”

“Isn’t she a probationary officer?”

“Apparently, that’s just a ‘paper-story’. I suspect she meant ‘legal fiction’, although that’s not quite applicable in the circumstances either. Gibbs knows how brilliant she is, and doesn’t expect her to ‘perform the probie’.”

“Not brilliant enough realise the limits of her language skills, I take it.”

“If she was the target of our investigation, I’d recommend checking whether it’s a distraction method of some kind. It was that bad.”

Sam turned that over in his head as they walked. Agent Gibbs was protecting a probationary officer and catering to her ego to a rather large extent. “Do you think there’s an inappropriate relationship with Agent Gibbs?”

Featherstone considered that for a minute. At last he said, “I didn’t get the feeling their relationship was sexual. There’s a fairly dramatic age difference between them, don’t forget.”

“It’s been known to happen before.”

“True. She was very open about her special treatment. Seemed quite proud of it, as a matter of fact. It could still be an inappropriate relationship without sex being involved.”

They arrived at their own office and swapped recordings to listen through. Sam agreed with Featherstone’s conclusions. Ziva didn’t sound like she had a romantic interest in Gibbs, but there was _something_ there. He judged she was so forthcoming because she felt safe. Not only didn’t believe DiNozzo had the right to discipline her; she didn’t seem to believe _anyone_ had the right to discipline her. Gibbs wouldn’t allow it. There sounded like there was some experience underlying that belief. Sam recalled from her file that she’d had an incident of a prisoner dying in her custody. He’d dismissed it as just one of those things, even if it was against procedure for Gibbs to have investigated himself. And that thing about sleeping with a killer – well, he’d rather assumed she'd been punished enough. But now he was wondering how far Gibbs had gone to protect her in the past. Far enough to cover up a murder? Far enough to kill a witness? Far enough to order DiNozzo to kill her out-of-control lover?

He shook his head to clear it of his fanciful thoughts and almost jumped when the door slammed open. Someone entered at full speed, took only a brief moment to examine the name plaques and then charged across to loom over Sam. Sam ignored him and added a notation to the paper in front of him. Attempted physical intimidation was another item for his list, after all.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my agents?”

“Agent Gibbs, I assume? If you could take a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“I asked you a question!”

Sam didn’t back down. He had played this game too many times to get sucked into using the bully’s rules. “I understand that you’re concerned, but you are currently yelling and standing too close. You need to sit down and give me a minute.”

“I don’t have time for this nonsense!”

“The faster you can do as I ask, the less time we both have to waste.”

Gibbs huffed and sat down very deliberately. Before Sam could attempt to diffuse the situation by thanking him, Gibbs went on, “If you know what’s good for you, you will tell me what is going on right the fuck now.”

Sam finished writing out his sentence – enough to establish that he would do as he said he would, but not long enough to draw it out – and swept the files into a drawer. He considered whether he could switch on a recorder without escalating the situation and decided not. Gibbs clearly had no self-control left at all if he thought this kind of behaviour was even vaguely productive. Sam would be treading very carefully just to keep the situation from exploding.

“Agent Gibbs. We have been called in because concerns have been raised about the safety of your agents in the field.”

“It’s a dangerous job. You can’t judge anything by the medical records.”

Sam’s hand twitched, wanting to make a note to check those medical records. He hadn’t so far because permissions were a nightmare and it hadn’t occurred to him he’d find anything. Clearly he’d been wrong about that. “It’s because it’s such a dangerous profession that we try to mitigate that danger in any way possible. In this case, we’re investigating an incidence of an agent being left with inadequate back-up.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Damn it, he was straying into territory that needed to be handled in a formal interview. The fact that he wasn’t actually asking any questions wouldn’t help much in making anything he discovered now admissible in court. He needed to wrap this up. “I certainly hope so. That would make our investigations considerably simpler.”

“I can tell you what will make it simpler. You keeping your noses out of things that don’t concern you and leaving my agents alone.”

Gibbs stood up, shoving the chair back and letting it balance precariously on the edge of falling.

“I understand that you wish to protect them, Special Agent Gibbs, but I hope you understand that we need to address—“

“I’m going to do any addressing that needs to happen. I am going to discover the jackass who filed this pathetic complaint and find out what his real game is.”

Sam didn’t move as Gibbs slammed his way out the door. He breathed deeply through his nose, and then counted back from twenty. “Featherstone. Send a uniform around to babysit DiNozzo.”

Featherstone breathed in sharply. “You think that’s really necessary?”

"DiNozzo said that questioning Gibbs was a painful thing to do. When McGee said that Gibbs would kill him, I thought he was going to throw up. Gibbs just issued a threat against the filer of this complaint. That man who just walked out on us? That wasn’t a man who is thinking about consequences anymore. I think this is a time to be safe rather than sorry.”

“You do realise you’re going to have to up the seriousness of the complaint to authorise that kind of expenditure.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll document that we’re investigating Agent Gibbs for criminal activity for now. We’ve got another three days to specify just what that that criminal activity is.”

“You’re going to get burnt if we don’t end up charging him with anything,” warned Featherstone.

“After that little display, do you really think we aren’t going to find something to charge him with? No-one is that aggressive without something to hide.”

Featherstone shrugged. Sam kept him out of the line of fire when things failed to pan out, so he was usually willing to back Sam up. “Send in Eliza to canvas the gossip?”

“Yeah, good idea, arrange that as well. I’ll see if I can get the security footage while I’m up with the NCIS Director. Damn it, I wanted to have a better idea of what was going on before we spoke to him, but we can’t let it ride any longer now. Anyway, wish me luck.”

“Good or bad?”

Sam grinned and slipped out. He’d have the length of the trip over to come up with a damn convincing argument without endangering the whole investigation. One of his least favourite parts of the job.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was shown right into the director’s office when he arrived, which was either an excellent sign or a terrible one.

“Director.”

“Agent Miller. Care to explain how a simple investigation into a minor procedural violation caused you to put a _guard_ on a federal agent?”

Not an excellent sign, then. Just once, Sam would like to deal with a supervisor who was keen to allow Sam to do his job. But Director Vance must have some excellent connections if he’d been informed of that already. Sam was surprised that a guard had even been organised yet. He’d have to wonder over to the local office to see what their opinion of Gibbs and DiNozzo were that they’d reacted so quickly – and then let the director know. Vance’s connections were something Sam would need to keep in mind. Politics were part of the job, as irritating as that could sometimes be.

“Special Agent Gibbs issued threats that raised concerns about Special Agent DiNozzo’s safety. It is my professional opinion that there is a high risk he will attempt to intimidate or suborn the complaining witness. I have a duty to intervene if I suspect the possibility.”

By the book, of course, but he was expected to use a very light hand when he used that particular book.

Vance leaned back in his chair, looking unimpressed.“Gibbs has a temper, but he’s not a criminal. He’s one of the best agents NCIS has ever had, and he isn’t going to do anything to DiNozzo that DiNozzo doesn’t deserve. Acting like you need to protect one of Gibb’s own team members from Gibbs is absurd.”

Sam just waited, looking attentive. He hadn’t been asked a question yet, after all.

The director continued after it became obvious Sam had no intention of saying anything. “In addition, it means that our MCRT is out of action for no good reason. That will lower the effectiveness of the whole department and do terrible things to the overall morale. Is that a price you’re willing to pay because you’re worried about a little risk?”

Sam was used to being told his proposed actions would cause the end of civilisation as humans knew it. If that kind of intimidation could scare him off, he’d never have lasted in his job. He’d long since stopped pointing it out that his investigations were better than allowing the behaviour to continue, or that departments were supposed to have measures in place to cope with unexpected emergencies, or any of the multiple rational and sensible explanations. The director wasn’t stupid, and knew all of that already.

“We’ll resolve this as quickly as possible, Director. The more information we can get, the faster we can determine whether this is an overreaction or not.”

People on the level of the director were very familiar with blackmail, and Sam didn’t expect him to misunderstand this approach. Vance didn’t. “What do you want?”

“Interviews with the people the team commonly interacts with. As full a service record as you’re permitted to give without a court-order, including medical. As much security footage for their section of the bullpen as you keep in storage.”

“Agent Miller. Just what is going on here? What the hell was _in_ that complaint DiNozzo raised anyway?”

Sam considered his options and decided that it would be better to show some of his cards. “McGee and David left him in the field without backup, and Gibbs actively attempted to prevent DiNozzo from pursuing the matter.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Yes, that’s what Agent Gibbs said when he told us he’d be going after our complaining witness. In contrast, Agents McGee and David were quite willing to confess. Apparently, since it was just Agent DiNozzo involved, it doesn’t really count. Equally, they don’t think that any wrong-doing on the part of Agent Gibbs really counts. I’m hoping that this investigation will show just how often these incidents of things that ‘don’t really count’ occur, and whether that’s endangering the well-being of the agents in this office.”

Vance went absolutely still, a dead-giveaway that he had a reaction he was trying to hide. He clearly wasn’t as oblivious to Sam’s concerns as he was trying to appear. When he spoke, it was in an almost conciliatory tone of voice. “Look, I don’t know what McGee and David said, but I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. There aren’t any other incidents.”

A _misunderstanding_? Sam practiced his breathing again. The team’s sheer indifference to Agent DiNozzo’s justified concerns had gotten under his skin, but he shouldn’t assume the director was coming from the same place. The director would want to reduce the disruption to his people, and making everything go away would naturally be the easiest way achieve that. It didn’t mean that he really thought that two agents endangering another could ever be considered a minor misunderstanding. 

“The recordings and files will show that, then, and possibly go some way to show that the original incident was a misunderstanding as well.”

In other words, put up or shut up. If Vance was trying to argue that it was all entirely innocent, then he could have no objection to Sam looking at the proof.

Vance grabbed a new toothpick. “Alright, I’ll give you what you’ve asked for. But you’re not taking anything out the building. My secretary will show you to a conference room, and organise with people to see you as soon as they are available. But I hope you realise that working with the MCRT after Gibbs has been proven innocent is going to be very difficult for you.”

Sam wondered if the director even noticed the irony in warning him that Gibbs would bully him for wrongfully accusing Gibbs of being a bully.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take to ensure the well-being of the agents in our charge, Director. Thank you for your assistance. My partner should join me shortly.”

Sam called Featherstone and settled into the conference room with his laptop. Despite his expectations that the director would drag his feet in order to prove his power, the first set of security footage was delivered to him even before Featherstone arrived.

People often underestimated just how much you could tell about a team’s dynamic by watching security footage, especially the type of high-quality recordings the federal agencies were prepared to fund. He’d seen example after example of people ignoring the monitoring if it was sufficiently unobtrusive. There were things they’d never do in front of their bosses that they were perfectly happy to do in front of cameras their bosses had access to. As little as a few weeks in a new environment, and as long as there were no consequences to their previous actions, and people started to act like they had complete privacy. Vance should be aware of that, giving his position in law enforcement, but perhaps he thought _his_ people wouldn’t be stupid enough to do anything incriminating while being taped.

Or perhaps he was meant to be overwhelmed with the amount provided. If so, the director was going to be disappointed. The task of scanning footage had come a long way since you handed an intern a TV and a remote control. Sam had to spend some time at the beginning of each investigation to train his pet software to identify his four targets with a reasonable margin of certainty, but then he could just tick the ‘interactions between targets only’ and ‘heightened emotions’ boxes’ and let it run. It was by no means perfect, but it eliminated a large bulk of the uninteresting footage. Just getting rid of that which showed empty rooms would already have been a massive time saver, but the software went many steps beyond that. It stripped out footage where there weren’t at least two members of the team in view. It stripped out footage where they were present, but far apart and relatively static, such as the team working individually on their computers. Finally, it prioritised sections based on the animation of the targets and their facial expressions. It couldn’t read body-language (yet), but it could tell when there was more of it than normal. And since the timestamps seemed to be properly synchronised, it would be making its judgements based on multiple feeds of the same location, and storing that result together.

Sam left it running while they dug into the paperwork. They’d been informed that their first contextual interviews would start immediately after lunch, another example of the director either taking Sam at his word or trying to overwhelm them before they had a chance to orientate. The scanning software would take a day or more to fine-tune to the best results, but it would have something worth viewing before then. Enough for them to know where to start asking their questions.

But that was where the flow of information halted. Two o’clock had arrived, and they still hadn’t been asked who they wanted to talk to or received any indication of who was available. Sam sighed, considering who would be the best target for complaints. However, just at the hour, someone knocked on their door.

“Hi. I’m Jimmy Palmer, the autopsy assistant.”

The feeling of being deliberately obstructed deepened. Who would they send next? The lawn maintenance specialist?

Still, no point on taking it out on this witness. “Thank you for coming. Were you told why we’re here?”

“Well, I hope you’re here about Tony’s complaint, otherwise I just volunteered to speak to the wrong people.”

Sam could see Featherstone perk up and felt much the same way. “No, you’re right. That’s why we are here. You knew that Agent DiNozzo was going to make a complaint, then?”

“Yes, we spoke about it. He didn’t want me getting involved, because he was worried it might upset Doctor Mallard or Agent Gibbs, but he’s my friend. Some things are just more important than that.”

Witnesses who were personal friends of the complainant were always complicated to deal with, since they would naturally slant their information. On the other hand, they were very eager to share information and background, and that’s what they were currently in the most urgent need of.

“Thank you very much for coming forward, then. What was it that you thought we ought to know?”

“I’m mostly worried that Tony played down his function in the team and soft-pedalled his complaint because of the respect he has for Agent Gibbs.”

“Would you say that Agent DiNozzo holds a great deal of respect for Agent Gibbs?”

“Oh yes, of course. Everyone does. Agent Gibbs is a genius and an excellent investigator. But Tony feels that more than most, and is very sympathetic to his weaknesses, and it’s one of Agent Gibbs’ weaknesses that’s causing the problems.”

“One of Agent Gibbs’ weaknesses?” prompted Featherstone.

“Yes, you see, Agent Gibbs needs to prove himself over and over again. It’s really what drives him to solve so many cases, so perhaps it’s misleading to call it a weakness, but it spills over into other things as well. Most people accept that as the price they pay for his performance, which I most certainly understand. But what people don’t seem to realise is how much work Tony does to compensate for the…the… the collateral damage of Agent Gibbs’ methods. Agent Gibbs wouldn’t be as successful as he is without Tony. Tony’s an essential part of the team. I don’t want you to take it lightly if he’s saying that the situation is beyond his ability to cope. It means it’s very severe indeed.”

Someone certainly thought himself to be a budding psychologist. Sam, as a matter of principle, neither believed nor disbelieved Mister Palmer’s opinions. As IA investigators, they were trained out of looking too hard for people’s motives. Some of it was that people were simply too complex for that to work very well – people did most things for a variety of reasons, some of them contradictory. The rest of it was simply that actions counted more. Intent might play a large part in finding ways to prevent it happening again, but the best predictor of a person’s future actions was a person’s past actions.

Sam sat back and let Featherstone took the lead in the questioning. It was still in their best interests to let the man tell them what he had come here to say, even if most of it ended up unusable. “I can assure you, Mister Palmer, we have no intention of taking the matter lightly. Would you mind telling us a bit more about the problems that ‘spill over’?”

“Agent Gibbs…, well, I guess it’s fair to say he needs others to confirm for him that he’s better and scarier and more powerful than them. Tony recognises that and caters for it. He’s willing to play-act the devoted subordinate most of the time, and draw the line only when necessary.”

“And this was one of those times he had to draw the line?”

“Actually, no. Not in the way I just meant, at any rate. Tony only confronts Agent Gibbs directly when it comes to things he believes are endangering the case. He doesn’t try to stand up on his own behalf. He doesn’t feel that challenging Gibbs in those circumstances would be appropriate. Which is kind of why he _had_ to call you in, because he can’t deal with the team in any of the usual ways now that they’ve gone a step too far.”

“The problems with disciplining Agents McGee and David are ongoing, then?”

“Very much so. If I was him I would have reported them for insubordination a long time ago. But Tony tends to think that any problems they display in their behaviour are a consequence of lack of guidance or training, so he has a hard time holding them responsible for their own actions. And when it comes to the nasty little comments they’re always making, he figures that putting up with it is just part of his role in smoothing things over for Agent Gibbs. You know, because he thinks they’re actually really upset with Agent Gibbs, but can’t confront _him_ about it.”

“You sound like you don’t agree with Agent DiNozzo.”

“Well, I do somewhat, but I think it is a little more complex than that. Tony doesn’t see it because he doesn’t have the kind of personal ambition that Ziva and Tim do. I suspect _they_ think if they can prove themselves to be top dog, Agent Gibbs will show them more respect. Which he won’t, of course. If anything, Agent Gibbs is harder on the people he respects the most. And then I think they also kind of blame Tony for not protecting them better. They were really nasty to him when Agent Gibbs reti—took medical leave without warning, and that was all about blaming him for not having stopped Agent Gibbs from leaving.”

“I see.”

Sam made a ‘hurry it along’ gesture, and Featherstone asked, “Does Agent DiNozzo allow Agents McGee and David to hit him?”

Mister Palmer didn’t look startled by that comment, which was worrying. He should have been horrified and amazed they’d even suggested it. The incident the scanning software had flagged up for them had not been an isolated anomaly.

“Some stuff, like slaps to the stomach or punches to the arms. Not the head slaps, though. Not unless it’s on Gibbs’ orders. Tony gets angry if Tim or Ziva try that on their own accord.”

“But he is alright if Gibbs does it or orders it?”

“Yes, all of them are. From Gibbs it’s almost a sign of affection, you know? Gibbs only hits the people he thinks are worth his time and he considers ‘his’.”

“I see. So would Agent Gibbs order Agent DiNozzo to head-slap the other two as well?”

“If Agent Gibbs couldn’t reach himself, yes.”

Sam wasn’t sure whether to count that as an example of Agent DiNozzo being allowed to enforce discipline or not.

“Have you witnessed incidents where Agent Gibbs’ interfered with Agent DiNozzo’s attempt to maintain discipline in the team?”

“Pretty much all the time when we’re at scenes. If Tim or Ziva don’t like what Tony asks them to do, they complain to Agent Gibbs. About half the time he’ll reassign them to something else and makes Tony do it instead. I don’t know that much about what happens in the bullpen, though.”

That sounded tacky and petty, but not overtly anything against regulations. Featherstone raised an eyebrow and Sam shrugged. They’d explore it anyway. They led Mr Palmer through several incidents of Agent DiNozzo being challenged, undercut, and publicly humiliated. Sam would have thought that the man was overdramatizing the events if Mr Palmer hadn’t seemed so surprised by the details he was recalling. After a while, they were repeating the same ground with different scenery. Mr Palmer didn’t recall any incidents of endangering an investigation or illegal orders, but the behaviour between the team members at scenes was reasonably consistent, and consistently wrong. Sam looked over to Featherstone and nodded.

“Thank you for your time, Mister Palmer. We’ll get a statement to you for you to sign as soon as possible.”

“No problem,” said Palmer, although the crease between his eyes showed he was more unsettled now than when he’d walked in.

Sam didn’t feel much better. Something was seriously unhealthy here, but he didn’t think it was anything as simple as a corrupt supervisory agent.


	4. Chapter 4

They didn't much time to discuss the interview as the next person arrived, still without schedule or warning. Even less warning than Mister Palmer, in fact, since she slammed through the door without bothering to knock.

“I’m Abby Scuito and you’re the people who are being mean to Gibbs,” she said with her hands on her hips.

Sam was grateful he recognised her name from DiNozzo’s interview, or he’d have thought some civilian dependent of Gibbs had been sent to them as a practical joke. He'd need to provide the context to clue Featherstone in without making them look any more ridiculous than they already did. “Ms Scuito, thank you for coming. You handle most of the forensic work for the MCRT, is that correct? I’m Agent Miller, and this is Agent Featherstone. W’re actually here to make sure that agents are not being unnecessarily endangered.”

She waved that away. “Gibbs would never allow that. He’s like a papa bear protecting his cubs. But not like that papa bear from that zoo who killed its cub when the mama bear was distracted. Gibbs is all about the protecting and not about the killing, except the bad guys. I guess that makes him more like the mama bear? But Gibbs can't be the mama bear, because he’s all like big and masculine and growly. Although I guess mama bears can be big and growly too, so—“

Sam blinked. Ms Scuito was actually using her hands to demonstrate her words. He rather suspected he looked like a German Shepard being harassed by a Chihuahua, and much like the German Shepard, his only real option was to pretend nothing disturbing was happening. He let her continue until she seemed to reach her point.

“—so they might get into a lot of really weird stuff, but they all look after each other, and Gibbs looks after them all.”

“We certainly hope that’s what we discover, Ms Scuito. You can help us by answering a few questions about what you might have witnessed.”

“I’m not helping you be mean to Gibbs! What kind of girl do you take me for?”

Sam had taken her for the ‘kind of girl’ who was at least a decade too old to be referring to herself that way, but that was none of his business. Her argument was using essentially the same logical fallacy he had used to extort co-operation from the director, but he suspected that Ms Scuito would not be so easily reasoned with. She seemed to be reacting on pure emotion, and emotion did not care much for logic. Still, he had to try, and using her terminology would help with that.“Then help us figure out that we don’t have to be mean to Agent Gibbs. If the situation is really as positive as you describe, then telling us about it won’t do anything but help him.”

“Bad Investigator. You’re trying to trick me. I know your wiles.”

_Bad Investigator_? Sam looked at Featherstone in disbelief. It looked like they had competition for the title of most surreal interview. Were these people really employees of a federal agency? “We don’t have any wiles, Ms Scuito. We were simply hoping to get your statements on some of the incidents that occurred that you may have witnessed.”

“Well, I haven’t witnessed any incidents that _anyone_ could find worrying.”

Sam breathed through his nose, concealing his exasperation. From both the videos and from what Palmer had told them, there was no possible way anyone could say that with the smallest degree of truthfulness. “Have you witnessed Agent Gibbs slap one of the other agents on the back of the head?”

“Don’t make it sound like that! It’s not all violent and grubby.” Ms Scuito paused, and then hugged herself with a smile. “It’s loving.”

“It’s loving?” asked Featherstone, more neutrally than usual. That was a fair indication in him that he was seconds away from requesting a psych eval.

“Yep, we understand because we’re a family. You don’t understand because you’re not family.”

“I take it you don't mean that literally, Ms Scuito?”

“Of course I mean that literally! Are you some sort of biologist?”

“Biol–”

“You know, someone who thinks you have to be biologically related to be family.”

Sam shook his head and redirected the conversation. He had the feeling that any other leading question was going to be just as pointless as the ones they'd already tried. “Ms Scuito, do you remember a recent case where Agent DiNozzo collected voice samples from the residents of a gated community?”

“Yes. Poor Tony lost his voice, but we nailed the bad guys anyway. It was awesome.”

“Did you hear the recording after Agent DiNozzo returned to the car?”

“No, of course not. I would never invade their privacy. Why would you think I'd do anything like that?”

“Would it surprise you that Agents McGee and David turned off the sound while they were supposed to be monitoring Agent DiNozzo?”

“If that happened, and I don’t think that did, because you're probably just wrong, but _if_ it happened at all, they would have had a very good reason for it. Like… a bad guy was within earshot, and they had to turn down the volume to prevent Tony from being compromised! Or they thought they heard something suspicious outside the car and turned down the volume to listen. Or Tony was saying something they thought he wouldn't want them to overhear. Or…”

Or mind control by aliens, concluded Sam glumly. He stared in fascination for a moment at Ms Scuito's flying pigtails before interrupting her again.

“How would you characterise the relationships between Agents DiNozzo, McGee and David?”

“Oh! Well, Tony's like an apple tree, McGee;s more like a laurel tree, and Ziva's a cypress. So they wouldn't grow together if left to themselves, but with the right gardener–“

Ms Scuito – or was it Dr Scuito, thinking about it? – continued to say nothing at great length. Sam conceded defeat long before she wound down, and Featherstone wasn't even willing to try. She left them with the admonition that she’d be sending vibes their way that would make them unable to think wicked thoughts. Without needing to say anything, the two agents went in search of coffee.

Once they were back in their little conference room, Featherstone said, “Is it just me, or are you also feeling like we’ve accidentally wandered into an alternative lifestyle sensitivity seminar? I swear the next time someone tells me that Gibbs hits them because he loves them, I’m going to ask whether Gibbs respects their safe-words.”

“It’s a cult of personality,” said Sam. “We’ve seen them before. They have the perception of Agent Gibbs is the man who controls everything and can do no wrong – no matter how unreasonable that belief actually is. But are you starting to notice a theme in gender?”

“Umm… no. I can’t say I have.”

“The women we’ve spoken to tell us variants of ‘Gibbs will protect me’. The men tell us variants of ‘Gibbs will kill me’.”

Featherstone tilted his head to one side, considering that. “Alright, I can see it. But it’s a sample set of _five_. It’s a bit too early to conclude that the man is a sexist atavist.”

“Perhaps. But whichever way they express it, they all seem to think of Gibbs the highest authority they have, above both us and the Director, and that means he's been colouring outside the lines for long enough for people to stop thinking of it as unusual.”

“That might be true, but that doesn't get us anywhere. We're running out of time.”

“I know. More background interviews during the morning at least? It will give the software enough time to finish, and then we can interview Agent Gibbs.”

They did, but the interviews filled in the blanks without breaking any new ground. They'd left it is as long as they could.The first formal questioning with the accused was almost always where they made or broke their case, but Sam gathered his courage around him and organised it.

If they’d been in another building, they might have insisted on an interrogation room, but here it would just give Agent Gibbs a home field advantage. Instead they cleared one side of the table in their little conference room and checked the webcam and microphone.

Deep breath. “Agent Gibbs, you have the right to a lawyer or union represent—“

“Don’t waste my time. I was told to be here to talk, so I’m here. Talk.”

“Very well,” said Sam, making a written note of that despite the recording. “Do you recall Agent DiNozzo attempting to speak to Agents McGee and David after the trial involving the Military At Home domestic terrorist group?”

“Yes.”

Sam waited, but Gibbs didn't continue. Sam felt like rolling his eyes at the non-response but that would have reduced him to the same age that Gibbs was currently pretending to be.

“ _What_ do you recall?”

“Tony got bent out of shape by how they had behaved and was wasting everyone’s time trying to get even for it.”

“And how did they behave?”

“Like themselves.”

Sam bit back a hiss. He didn’t miss the little smirk on Gibbs’ face that let him know this was all intentional. While he was relieved the man had calmed down from their last meeting, he was less than thrilled that Gibbs had decided that being as obnoxious as possible his best alternative. Alright, it was time to up the stakes. This was now a formal interview with proper safeguards and recording in place and they could do with Gibbs being a little more forthcoming.

“Then, in your opinion, Agents McGee and David typically disregard their duty and display contempt for the lives of others.”

For an instant, Sam was certain he had pushed too hard with a man who was armed and convinced he was above the rules. Two seconds afterwards, Gibbs’s expression was nothing more than restrained contempt. Interesting. Gibbs was capable of control after all.

“My agents are some of the best in the country. You wouldn’t know enough about that to recognise that. Can we quit playing games, now? _I_ have more important things to do.”

“Certainly, Agent Gibbs. Were you aware that Agents David and McGee left Agent DiNozzo without backup during that case?”

“Bullshit.”

Prepared for exactly that moment, Sam hit the prepared recordings on their confessions - both in the car and later during the interviews.

Gibbs showed no reaction whatsoever. Sam revised his estimate of Gibbs’ ability to control himself up another few dozen notches. It seemed that the performance in his office hadn’t been a man on the edge of losing it; it had been a man acting the part in order to get his own way. While that did make Sam feel better about everyone's short-term safety, it also meant his task was a lot harder than he’d realised. This would not a witness who would give himself away when put on the stand.

Sam ended the recording, and raised an eyebrow.

Gibbs shrugged. “None of your business. Nothing went wrong, and no civilians were involved. I’ll handle team matters myself.”

“Except that you aren’t handling it yourself,” said Featherstone, not bothering with appearing approachable. Neither of them would be playing good cop in this interview. “You didn’t even know about that screw-up in order to do anything about it.”

“DiNozzo should have spoken to me about it.”

“Yeah? Before or after you told him that you weren’t a kindergarten teacher and didn’t care what he had to say?”

There was something mildly amusing in Featherstone defending DiNozzo now when he’d been so disapproving of DiNozzo’s excuses at the time. Sam was sure he would have a appreciated it in other circumstances.

“If DiNozzo didn’t spend so much time yammering about bullshit, then maybe he’d have better luck communicating the important stuff. But I’ll sort it out. It won’t happen again.”

Sam couldn’t tell from that whether Gibbs was referring to David and McGee not providing backup, or DiNozzo complaining about it.

Gibbs half stood.

“We're not finished, Agent Gibbs. We also have some concern about the general culture within your team that allowed this problem to arise in the first place. It appears that the team has a very adversarial relationship with each other.”

“It’s why we get the results we get. The competition makes them perform better. It drives them to do the best jobs they’re capable of. I’m not going to pretend to regret that we save lives and lock away scumbags.”

“How about the chain of command problems within your team? Do those also save lives and lock away scumbags?”

“I don’t have any chain of command issues. They all do what I tell ’em.”

Except when you tell them to provide backup, apparently. “And within the team itself?”

“What about within the team?”

“Would you say there are no chain of command issues between Agents DiNozzo, McGee and David?”

“They don't need chain of command. If three adults can’t come to a sensible decision without needing to rely on seniority, then they shouldn’t be in law enforcement.”

“I must admit I find that a rather surprising attitude from someone who used to be in the military.”

“Don't act like you have the slightest idea of what the military is all about. We had names for people who thought their rank was more important that someone else’s authority. I'll give you a hint: none of them were nice.”

What authority? A technician who'd had a few carefully supervised field trips and a foreign agent who had the barest grasp of the culture she was investigating? Featherstone gave a subtle head shake just outside of Gibbs' line of sight. Moving along, then. “Can you explain to me a little about the level of violence within your team?”

“There isn’t any violence in the team.”

Sam didn’t let his jaw drop, but it was close. Luckily Featherstone stepped in to play back some of the flagged recordings.

“What would you consider this to be?

“Wake-up calls. They keep the team focused. Real violence looks completely different, which you would know if you were a real agent.”

Sam didn't rise to the bait. “Don't you have any concern about the psychological affect that this type of physical correction might have? ”

“None of my people are that weak. If they have a problem with it, then they’d better be able to speak up for themselves. Not going to hand-hold them. They won’t learn anything that way.”

They tried a few more approaches without any more success. Every question they had was met with an answer that it made the team better agents or they preferred it that way, until it seemed they'd exceeded Gibbs’ quota of spoken words. Answers descended into monosyllables and grunts. It wasn’t even that Sam thought Gibbs was being deliberately uncooperative. Gibbs just didn’t seem to think there was anything more to discuss. Sam indicated his surrender, and let Featherstone go through the normal thanks-and-stay-available speech.

Featherstone looked at him after they closed the door behind Gibbs. “As much evidence as we have, it’s going to be an uphill struggle convincing someone to do anything about it. Not without Director Vance’s approval. The prosecutors are going to think its stuff that should have been handled by firing people, not by criminal proceedings.”

“I know, but… damn it. The culture in that bull-pen is toxic, and Director Vance is _part_ of it. Absolutely no-one has stepped forward to put a stop to what’s been happening and we can’t just leave things like that. This stuff is against regulations for a reason, and time after time, the directors watch him pull all that bullshit and name him agent of the fricking year! What kind of message are they trying to send to the probies? Do they want everyone else to start emulating Gibbs? And you know that once the people in charge are convinced that it's somehow acceptable behaviour, nothing will be done about it until someday someone decides to go _postal_.”

Featherstone raised his hands in submission. “I hear you. Believe me, I’m on your side when it comes to that. But I’m not sure how much we can do.”

Sam set his jaw. He was going to fight for this one. He didn’t take on the investigations he did because he gave up when it became difficult. He'd find something to land on that smug— _mistaken_ agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'To go postal' or 'going postal' means to explode with anger, usually in the workplace. It refers to a series of incidents in the 80's and 90's where postal workers shot supervisors and co-workers before committing suicide, killing some forty people in total. The events are often ascribed to the excessive focus on productivity combined with the authoritarian management style of the USPS in those decades.


	5. Chapter 5

They were up to the very edge of their time limit before the uniform would be pulled off Agent DiNozzo, which meant they were teetering almost over the edge of losing the case entirely. Or at least losing the case as anything more serious than the initial complaint. It was time to talk to DiNozzo again and hope they could convince him to expand the scope of his concerns. This interview was in one of the formal interview rooms, an unfortunate by-product of the protection order, but it did allow Featherstone to split off to the observation room.

"Agent DiNozzo."

"Hey, Sam! Nice to finally talk to someone who has a name. Please do call me Tony. Want to let me in here about why I'm in protective custody? Because, you know, I'm not really feeling the love. All this is reminding me that the important word in the phrase ‘protective custody’ is 'custody' rather than 'protective'."

Sam didn’t even bother trying to conceal his wince. The last thing he wanted was DiNozzo to be hostile. Still, he wasn’t going to apologise. He still thought that Agent Gibbs would have attempted to suborn his witness, even if they’d come to realise the situation was more complex and personal than Gibbs making physical threats.

"We’ve assigned you protection in order to preserve the integrity of the case, Ag— Tony. You aren’t under investigation yourself."

"Aren't you supposed to add 'at this time' to that statement? Because if you change your mind later, some lawyer is going to be really upset with you forgetting."

"I'll risk it,” said Sam with a smile he didn’t feel. In truth, their investigation _had_ turned up incidents that DiNozzo himself could be investigated for – it was one of those ironies that the most pernicious harassment was not the overt (and therefore easily prosecutable) type. “Cards on the table. Our investigation is no longer about the isolated incident of endangerment you reported. We’re thinking of recommending a charge against Agent Gibbs for criminal harassment."

"Criminal harassment... isn't that the stalker law? Gibbs isn't a stalker. Who on earth is he supposed to have been stalking?"

Sam told himself not to be too disappointed in the incredulity in DiNozzoo’s voice. He’d known it was going to be a hard sell. "Criminal harassment covers more than just stalking. It covers workplace abuse as well if the individual actions are criminal rather than discriminatory in nature. We want to charge Agent Gibbs with the wilful destruction of personal property, intimidation and assault you have all been subjected to."

“Assaul— Wait, you mean the _head-slaps_? Those aren’t assault!”

Sam could hear Featherstone making a crack about safe words in his head, and was glad they’d decided he would be observing rather participating.

Tony shook his head before Sam had time to say anything. “Look, maybe I overreacted by complaining about the situation in the first place. I really don’t think it’s a good use of anyone’s time or resources trying to charge Gibbs with anything. He’s one of the best agents NCIS has ever had.”

“Well, that’s something that is a matter of interpretation. Don’t you think you might be too close to the matter to have an unbiased opinion?”

“No I don’t, and you aren't going to get very far without someone willing to press charges."

Which was precisely their problem. No-one had ever accused DiNozzo of being slow on the uptake.

"Ah, I see.” He paused just long enough to whet DiNozzo’s suspicions, then continued in a soothing tone, “Gibbs wasn't doing anything wrong, you're sorry you called the police, you actually walked into a door, and besides, you had it coming?"

"I … I'm not an _abuse_ victim!"

"Are you sure about that? I can bring up footage of how you reacted to the simple thought Gibbs displeasure. I can show you even more explicit footage of McGee reacting to the same thought. If you'd interviewed someone who reacted that way, would you be willing to just send them home?"

"That's... it's... we’re not afraid of Gibbs. We just don't like disappointing him."

Sam sat back and lifted a few files between them, allowing DiNozzo to retreat from the emotions. It would be counterproductive to push too hard.

“Convince me. I’ll go through some of what we have. Give us your reactions as if this was an outside case you were investigating.”

This was a fairly standard technique in talking to a victim of abuse, and Sam could see DiNozzo’s eyes tighten in recognition. DiNozzo nodded anyway, so Sam counted it as a win.

“Assaulting you as punishment.”

“The head slaps don’t actually hurt,” said DiNozzo. “They’re really more in the way of ‘physical contact’ than ‘physical assault’. Against HR regulations, perhaps, but nothing actually illegal.”

The footage Sam had seen didn’t look painless to him, but it was too early to start contradicting their only hope of pursuing this investigation.

“Sending you into insecure environments without proper safety equipment.”

“Well, you know how it is with fast-moving investigations. You don’t always have time to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. But it’s always our own decision after a careful consideration of the relative risks.”

“Really?”

DiNozzo flashed a dazzling smile. “Of course.”

Liar, thought Sam to himself. “Denying you permission for basic entitlements as punishment, such as eating, sleeping or the use of a chair."

"That was McGee. Gibbs has never confiscated my chair."

“I see.” Sam took down a note, because he wanted DiNozzo to know Sam took DiNozzo’s objections seriously. From the point of Gibbs’ misdeeds, it clearly made no difference.

“And telling us we don’t have time to eat or sleep isn’t as punishment. It’s simply a reflection of the speed needed on the cases we have to deal with.”

“So he is willing to risk preventable mistakes and sub-optimum performance rather than properly schedule the time available to you?”

“Being able to schedule time can be a luxury we don’t have.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. Considering the known performance penalties of being hungry or tired, important cases were precisely the time when a real leader would be insisting that his team got plenty of food and rest. DiNozzo’s almost smug tone was also worrying – he seemed proud of being overworked. Sam reshuffled the papers to jump immediately to the complaint dealing with time management.

“Requiring you to remain on duty for more than thirty-six consecutive hours. Requiring you to remain on call twenty four hours a day for weeks at a time. Requiring an average of seventy-four hour work weeks. All well in excess of the maximum OSHA guidelines.”

“Come on. That’s everyone in law enforcement. You’re not going to tell me you put in a forty hour week and go home.”

“No, but you’re confusing peak with average. As you say, any number of law enforcement professionals will work fourteen hours a day when necessary. But the _average_ work week for field agents is surveyed at fifty-two hours, and OSHA already correlates a much higher risk of injury and death at those levels. _Your_ team is working almost half again as much as that.”

And that wasn’t even touching on the hours Ms. Scuito was working as the sole technician of her lab.

“We’re the MCRT. We don’t get to choose our cases. Sometimes that means longer hours.”

Those were definitely the words of someone who pinned too much of their self-worth to the image of them doing extraordinary work. Sam didn’t think he needed three guesses to figure out who had encouraged that particular piece of mental dependence. He made a note and returned to the original list. “Refusing you leave requests for holiday and medical appointments.”

“Well, okay, but that was because I’d faked those to do undercover work before and he didn’t believe me.”

“Was the undercover work you’re referring to signed off by the director?”

“Yes,” said DiNozzo.

“Then if Agent Gibbs thought it was more of the same, shouldn’t he have been even more accommodating about your needs to be out of the office, rather than less?”

DiNozzo looked startled, like he had never considered that before. After it became clear he wasn't going to answer, Sam moved on without pressing the issue. It was the pure weight of the complaints that would make or break this, not forcing an isolated criticism out of DiNozzo.

“Stealing or destroying your personal property, such as forcing you to shoot an item of sentimental value, giving away your sunglasses to a witness, throwing away items of food and drink, and so on."

DiNozzo shook his head again. “Okay, okay, enough. I can see it looks bad. But you have to consider the results he gets.”

“Have you ever considered that he succeeds _despite_ of his treatment of his agents, not _because_ of it?”

DiNozzo’s body language steadily shut down as they worked through the individual items on the list. Sam was losing him - he needed DiNozzo thinking; not arguing. Sam suggested a break and slipped into the next room with Featherstone.

“What do you think?” Sam asked. The observer could usually see more than the interrogator.

“I think he's starting to accept his treatment wasn't reasonable. But I don't think he’s going to find that important enough to betray Gibbs. And he's right, we _need_ him as a cooperative witness.”

Sam bit his lip. He needed a new approach, and thought back to reasons DiNozzo had given for reporting the incident in the first place. “You know,” he said slowly. “Maybe I just took the wrong track with comparing him to a battered spouse. The relationship isn't one-to-one, after all. Maybe we'll have better luck treating him like an abused _kid_. More specifically, an abused oldest brother.”

“Worth a try.”

Sam allowed DiNozzo to finish his coffee and then slipped back into the chair opposite him. “You mentioned earlier that McGee was the person Agent Gibbs confiscated a chair from?”

“Yeah, but he earned it back pretty quick. He's really smart.”

“We have footage of that, as a matter of fact. He was without a chair for about an hour before you arrived, then you made some gestures to him behind Agent Gibbs’ back and Agent Gibbs returned it?”

“Oh, yeah, he'd started to ramble a bit. He does that when he gets nervous, but it irritates Gibbs. He got to the point, and Gibbs gave him back his chair. The chair thing was more a way of stopping McGee from feeling guilty than a real punishment, anyway. I mean, the only thing he'd really done wrong was give into Abbs, but it had such terrible consequences that it really got to him.”

“I see. So if you'd been seriously hurt on the Royal Woods mission because he'd turned the volume down, do you think Gibbs would have done something similar?”

“That's different. It's our job to protect Abbs, but it's my job to protect McGee. Gibbs wouldn't do anything to McGee just because _I_ got myself into trouble.”

“Because you're the senior field agent.”

“Exactly.”

“We discussed at the last interview that you suspect you will be leaving the team no matter how this turns out, I recall.”

DiNozzo shrugged. “I suspect I won't have much of a choice.”

“You realise that if no disciplinary action is taken as a result of your complaint, then that could leave Agent McGee as the most senior field agent. How do you think he'll cope with the responsibility of being SFA?”

DiNozzo squirmed. “He'll step up if he knows he's in charge. He did fine as Gibbs's SFA before, after all.”

“You're confident in that? Would you be willing to send a new probationary agent without enough experience to watch their own back into a dangerous situation under Agent McGee's supervision?”

“He’ll… Like I said, if it someone he knows he’s supposed to protect, he won’t do things like he did to me.”

“Like he didn’t do things like that when it came to Ms Scuito?”

“That was mostly Abby’s own fault, really.”

“So you would have acted the same way in those circumstances?”

“No, but Abby wouldn’t have tried that with…” DiNozzo trailed off as he seemed to realise that wasn’t exactly an argument in favour of trusting McGee with more responsibility.

“And when this hypothetical new probie does something to make Agent Gibbs angry, and we both know that’s only a matter of time, do you think Agent McGee will endanger himself by stepping in to rescue them?”

“I... “ said DiNozzo, before trailing off and dropping his eyes.

“Are you really willing to risk a new young agent like that? If something happened and they died, would you really think it wasn’t in anyway your fault for not standing up now?”

DiNozzo's hands tightened, and Sam held his breath. Then DiNozzo's hands and Sam’s breath released together. When DiNozzo spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “What do you need from me?”

“Just tell the truth, Tony. That's all we ask.”

A few minutes later, Sam left him writing up a statement and returned to the observation room.

“Congratulations,” said Featherstone.

“I just wish I was confident it was enough. If Gibbs gets off with a slap on the wrist, that's going to tell the rest of the office that Gibbs was right all along, which will leave things even worse off than before.”

“But you're determined to go out in a blaze of glory anyway?”

“Yes, but you don't have to. If you want me to arrange for you to be elsewhere—“

“Don't worry about me. But if we're going to do it, then we should go _big_. Remember you saying they were risking someone going postal? Well, have you been following the news about USS _Dunsinane_?”

“Those boys who died after being stripped naked and forced to drink toxic substances a few years back?”

“Yep. It’s made the headlines again because of the new procedures the Navy has outlined for reporting hazing. I don’t know if you’ve read much about the committee findings?”

“Just the headlines,” said Sam.

“They concluded that anyone who had the authority to stop the hazing was already too indoctrinated into it to be able to identify it. So from now on, newly joining members will be explicitly required to evaluate whether the pervading standards of a group meet that of the Navy in general, and to report it to someone outside the group in question.”

Sam paused. Featherstone couldn't be suggesting what he thought he was suggesting. “The NCIS isn't the Navy, and the bullpen isn’t a ship.”

“The guidelines don't specify it has to be a ship. NCIS reports to the SecNav just as much as anyone in the Navy itself.”

“That’s… but the boys involved in the Dunsinane incident died.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly?”

“Yeah, the little ritual had been going on for years before that without causing serious injuries, and the Navy wants to make sure it gets reported at _that_ point, and not have to wait until there has been fatalities. All we need to work on now is what's the worst that _could_ happen.”

It was risky – perhaps even more risky than attempting to charge the perennial winner of agent-of-the-year with abusing his agents – but if it worked... Well. Sam felt himself begin to grin.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I know, there is no USS Dunsinane, and the hazing incident and repercussions mentioned are fictional. The real US Navy is, however, becoming increasing intolerant of hazing and more likely to relieve COs for abuse under their command (see Commander Etta Jones as an example).


	6. Chapter 6

With DiNozzo's comprehensive statement and the video footage it hadn't taken much to get the navy appointed expert – whose name began with a ‘w’ but Sam had mentally tagged 'Hazing Guy' – on board. With the MCRT out of action until the matter was concluded, it took even less to get an appointment with the SecNav.

“Agent Miller. You’ve reported sanctioned hazing occurring within the NCIS offices. Care to go into a little _detail_ about that?”

As in, explain your crazy reasoning right now.

“Yes, sir. While looking into specific charges against one of the senior agents, it became obvious that various forms of abuse and humiliation had become common place and expected, including the so-called ‘head slaps’. The agents in question have attended multiple mandatory sensitivity seminars in which they had been explicitly informed that all such behaviour was unacceptable and should be reported if witnessed. As this had no effect on their actions, we judged the situation could no longer be rectified by more conventional methods.”

The SecNav looked a little taken aback. “Well, a head-slap isn't really... I mean, no harm done, is there? And no one has ever complained before.”

Hazing Guy leaned forward to interrupt. “With all due respect, sir, that's a very common scenario when it comes to hazing, particularly the more severe type. In abuse of authority situations like Agent Miller has documented, it is very rare for the victim to file any complaints or even protest the actions verbally. The victims are made to feel like accepting the abuse is proof that they're part of the in-group. That's precisely why we insist on guidelines and don't leave it up to the discretion of the people concerned to identify inappropriate behaviour.”

The SecNav looked unconvinced, so Sam spoke up. “We have concerns that the behaviour may result in serious harm. There are indications it might already have – we have a complaint on record about a supervising agent contributing to the hospitalisation of an agent on his team.”

“Wait... hospitalisation? From a _head slap_?”

“Yes, sir. The attending physician diagnosed Secondary Impact Syndrome, which can be triggered by relatively light impact and is frequently fatal. He also raised the possibility of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, a progressive degenerative disease which may be triggered by cumulative sub-concussive blows to the head.”

“If something like that is on record, why is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

“I couldn’t say, sir, but the agent recovered and the director dismissed the complaint. He wrote that the hospitalisation was a result of a misdiagnosis of the severity of agent’s injury at the time of the initial concussion, and the complaint a misunderstanding concerning a moment of levity between the team.”

The SecNav looked at Hazing Guy. “Well?”

“I'd need to consult with a medical expert on the dangers of the assaults in question, sir, but I’d like to remind you that it doesn't need to be proximately dangerous for the hazing to be a concern. Agent Miller has provided strong evidence of institutionalised behaviour contrary to the accepted standards of the Navy. If they are doing so in the matter of physical assault, then one has to wonder what other standards they might be ignoring.”

“Perhaps, but I'm not sure we're not doing the same thing the director accused those medical staff of, and overreacting to playful banter. What got you involved in this in the first place, Miller?”

This was the make or break. The rest had been nicely generic, and not likely to raise any personal defensiveness in the SecNav. This would cross that line completely. If the SecNav had any reason to need to protect Gibbs (if the skeletons in the closet stories were true), or even if he simply _liked_ the man, this might be the end of it all. On the other hand, this was still the best chance of the root cause of NCIS's problems being identified and treated.

“I believe you're familiar with the members of the MCRT, sir? Agent DiNozzo filed a complaint about being left in a dangerous situation without backup when he was under the impression that he _would_ have backup. While we were questioning Agents DiNozzo and McGee, they reacted in a way consistent with long term abuse. They both thought they deserved it when Agent Gibbs hit them, threw things at them, publicly humiliated them, destroyed their personal property, forced them to work excessive hours and controlled when they ate, slept and used the bathroom. We then investigated why this had not been picked up by the usual safeguards that exist to prevent this sort of behaviour, and it is our opinion that the safeguards were being deliberately ignored and that these were not isolated circumstances.”

“Has the situation improved since Director Vance took office?”

Another deep breath. Vance, of the connections, had been a personal appointment, after all. “Not so far as I can see, sir. If anything, I would say it's become worse.”

The SecNav grunted, then opened the files and started reading random parts of the reports. And length he looked up, speaking to the empty space over Sam’s shoulder. “I suppose it's not like any of this information is new to me.”

The SecNav fidgeted some more and Sam looked down to hide his anxiety.

“Alright.”

Sam couldn’t follow the answer for a second. “Alright?”

“It doesn't matter whether I think it is a problem. All you need to do is convince me that a neutral party _might_ think there’s a problem. You've done that.”

The SecNav turned to Hazing Guy. “Set up a full investigation and a formal inquiry. The works.”

 

* * *

 

A formal inquiry was quite a few steps further than Sam had expected to get to. He was caught off guard by the SecNav’s commitment and stayed off guard as the investigation gathered momentum. He had contingency plans for it the powers had attempted to sweep everything under the rug. He hadn't made any preparations for the powers deciding to throw everyone to the vultures.

Seemingly from one minute to the next, the thing had become a fully-fledged media circus. A large percentage of Sam's reports had 'somehow' fallen into the hands of various reporters, and a public who had never even heard of NCIS before was now ready to lynch it. More than one person was playing political games with this, and the competition seemed to have collided in everyone's worst interests. Sam couldn't think of anything more likely to terrify anyone out of reporting suspected bullying than this, and in his more cynical moments, he wondered if that had been one of the aims of the stunt.

The first afternoon of the inquiry was a general introduction to the case, with no information that was new to anyone who'd been following the news. The major players in the drama were all lined up in the gallery. It hid them from the television cameras, but giving Sam an excellent view of their faces. Gibbs and David were grim-faced and still. Scuito was weepy, which was not a good combination with her mascara, and McGee looked like he wanted to join her. Palmer and DiNozzo just looked pained as the facts were restated and the violations of procedure and law detailed.

Hazing Guy was interesting enough, but it was the slideshow that consumed everyone's attention. Sam knew how easily it could have gone wrong. Take the raw footage and add an upbeat sound track, and it would have been a hilarious clip on youtube. Showing stills was far safer. On legal advice, they showed no more than the hand or elbow of the attacker, focusing instead on the victim. They were caught in the moment immediately after the blows, hunched over and their arms partially raised as if in surrender. In black and white as most of them were, they were reminiscent of scenes from a concentration camp. While watching the full security footage, the expressions of shock pain and anger had smoothed so quickly as to make you doubt you’d seen them at all. In the slideshow, they were caught like flies in amber, vividly chronicling an unhealthy workplace.

Gibbs was called to testify first. He wore a suit, but his body language made it clear that he’d prefer to have been in dress uniform. He stood to take his oath, listened to the legal warnings and sat down at the isolated table in silence.

“Special Agent Gibbs, you have been summoned to provide evidence on the culture of physical and emotional abuse prevalent in NCIS headquarters. Would you like to make any preliminary statements?”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I wish to say that there is no abuse within the office. The culture amongst the senior teams in NCIS headquarters is very close knit. I think it would be a mistake to judge the behaviour between our team members by the same standards as those expected in a less dangerous environment where work relationships are more casual.”

Very smooth, and quite a speech from the taciturn man. Sam had predicted correctly, Gibbs was good on the stand. His answers did tend to be on the short side, and were not noticeably satisfying to a board that seemed out for blood, but there was nothing in them that could be used against him. One board member managed to imply that he had achieved and maintain his position in the agency through personal connections and blackmail. Gibbs treated her with dismissive contempt without allowing himself to be drawn into a discussion. Sam himself couldn’t figure out whether he himself believed that Gibbs used blackmail on people. There were all those rumours, and it would explain a good deal, but he wasn’t sure it gelled with his understanding of Gibbs’s character. He could see Gibbs demanding special treatment by force of personality, but he couldn’t see him doing anything he found beneath him. Gibbs believed himself to be the lead representative of the white hats, and blackmail would surely have spoiled that illusion of himself.

In fact, it wasn't until after the questioning, during the time allowed for counter-witnesses, that Sam saw Gibbs’ barriers falter. The first time was when Sergeant Major Peters took the podium.

“The NCIS is a civilian agency working within a military world. As Agent Gibbs said, it should be judged differently from a purely civilian agency. It should be held to the highest standards of _both_ traditions. I am not qualified to answer to the civilian standards, but it is my opinion that it is failing the military tradition badly. Such demeaning and threatening behaviour would be inexcusable in a leader in the field, and conduct unbecoming a marine.”

The whole room seemed to wince, and Gibbs was not immune. In fact, from the severity of the reaction, Sam suspected the two men knew each other personally.

The second time Gibbs’s mask slipped was during a statement by a special interest group. The woman held a piece of paper and read aloud:

“’ _Outsiders don_ _’_ _t understand, but what I do is necessary. It keeps my boys on the straight and narrow. I get the results I do because of the standards I set, and I_ _’_ _m not going to apologise for insisting my boys be the best they can possibly be._ ’ Contrary to how it sounds, this isn’t a statement from Special Agent Gibbs. This is a statement made by a man currently serving time for beating his son into a coma for not getting full ‘A’s one semester. We, as a society, cannot risk having law enforcement officers who might find that a reasonable justification.”

Gibbs managed to assume a blank expression within seconds, but those seconds were enough to reveal the truth. The complete self-certainty Sam had battled with during the investigation had shattered. Gibbs, far too little, far too late, was starting to entertain the possibility that he had been wrong.

 

* * *

 

The next morning was DiNozzo’s turn, and Sam found an excuse to join him in the waiting room beforehand. DiNozzo looked like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep in weeks, but he was bright eyed and sharply dressed.

“How have you been doing?”

“Oh, great, you know. Wine, woman, song. The high life.”

Sam didn't react to the sarcasm. “Your team mates being giving you any problems?”

“Investigating whether we've been disobeying the rules about discussing the inquiry?”

“No, Tony. I'm just worried about you. This wasn't the outcome either of us expected when we started down this path, and I know this morning is going to be rough on you.”

DiNozzo laughed without humour. “No less than we deserve, right? And you can relax, I have no intention of recanting. No one has tried to coerce me and I'll stand by my written testimony. Actually, the only team-mate who's talking to me at all is McGee, and he seems to think he can make the whole thing go away if he just apologises often enough.”

“Agent Gibbs hasn't talked to you?”

“Nope. He hasn't talked to anyone since the administrative suspension. The office has taken to send care packages to his basement to make sure he eats.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow and DiNozzo shrugged. “I said my team mates weren't speaking to me, not that the rest of the office wasn't. Practically everyone else from the team leads to the security staff has felt the need to pop in, or give me a call, or drop off care packages of my own. Do you know how many people have told me how they never thought I was treated properly?”

“You don't sound happy about that.”

“Why tell me now that someone else has already stepped in? Why did no one ever say anything when knowing that would actually have helped? Why didn’t they tell me in time to make me realise that I was making things worse?”

Sam had no answer. That's precisely the change he had been working his whole career to try and achieve, but had yet to manage. Some days, like that day, it felt like he was trying to bail out the ocean with a sieve. Sam patted him on the shoulder, and let him enter the room like a man attending a firing squad. The board, for their part, recognised DiNozzo as one of the prominent victims of the slideshow and treated him gently. They covered the familiar ground until one of the questioners took a sudden right turn.

“I understand you were offered the lead for our offices in Spain by the previous director. You turned it down because you believed Special Agent Gibbs required additional supervision.”

Gibbs' expression revealed that information was news to him, and DiNozzo's expression revealed it was accurate news. This wasn't in any of the material Sam had prepared for the simple reason that this was the first he was hearing about it himself. It was the same member who’d been heavy handed with the hints of personal corruption, so someone was feeding her information – or lines to say.

Sam knew DiNozzo well enough now that he could see DiNozzo's temptation to lie. At last, however, he offered quietly, “Special Agent Gibbs had temporary memory difficulties that were not impeding his ability to do the job, and were in any case soon resolved.”

“You have not been offered another lead position under the current directorship, despite being highly sought after and overqualified for your current role. Why not?”

“I'm afraid you would have to ask Director Vance, but I will say that I expressed my wish to remain on Special Agent Gibbs team to him quite explicitly.”

“Was this at the time you were asked to serve a rotation as Agent Afloat?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“The complaints against Special Agent Gibbs sky-rocketed during this period and you were recalled to DC early, is that correct?”

“I... it is true that I was recalled early, ma'am, but I wasn't aware of any increase in complaints.”

“But you are aware that you have been artificially kept on the team to allow it to continue functioning, despite the multiple procedural and ethical violations by Agent Gibbs.”

Sam twitched. That statement could well be actionable as slander. This might not be a trial, but the board member was not simply expressing her opinion in a bar. She was damaging Agent Gibbs reputation in an official forum before he’d been officially found guilty of anything.

“No, ma’am. I hope my presence on the team was helpful, but I don’t believe I was placed there artificially.”

“I see,” she said with a wealth of meaning in her tone.

Her objective was now obvious. She wanted (or had been asked) to make the problem to seem less like a widespread failure within the NCIS, and more like a private political fight between Vance and Gibbs. DiNozzo, in that piece of creative history, was just the unfortunate ball they kicked back and forth. Had this been the SecNav’s plan the instant he had ordered the inquiry? There were a limited number of sources for that kind of information.

If so, it was unfortunate for them both, because DiNozzo wasn't willing to play along. He used his testimony to complete the task that Gibbs had unintentionally started. DiNozzo manipulated the questioning away from the wrongs done to him and into the wrongs he'd been encouraged to do against others. He discussed agents who had been side-lined and under-appreciated because they weren't a member of the MCRT. He discussed the award ceremonies that had ignored the everyday sacrifices of people who didn't have anyone fighting in their corner. He discussed all the agents who had been forced out of NCIS because they had a personality clash with someone in power. He discussed agents who had been so lacking in faith in the ability and integrity of NCIS that they concealed crimes and failed to report blackmail attempts. He made it perfectly clear that it had been happening for as long as he had been an agent, under different directors, and involving different lead agents. Mostly, he made it clear that his own integrity as an investigator had been damaged by the pervasive atmosphere of the office.

Sam bled for him. DiNozzo had done his job, and done it well. While it was still uncertain whether the board would recommend criminal charges against anyone, they would have to recommend reforms and oversight. But it would no longer matter to DiNozzo. He no longer trusted his superiors and he no longer trusted himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the existence of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy can only be determined postmortem, there is considerable debate about whether sub-concussive blows are a contributing factor. Still, the human brain is kinda important, so you probably don’t want to let people hit it. 
> 
> I capitalise ‘marine’ when using it to refer to a specific person, but not otherwise. Just like ‘doctor’, ‘professor’, ‘inspector’, or any other title (including ones like ‘general’, ‘major’, ‘chief’, 'agent', etc. that have alternative plain English meanings). The DoD is free to Randomly capitalise Words if it wants, but that doesn’t mean I have to.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the inquiry was a forgone conclusion as far as Sam was concerned. The only thing left for him to hope for was that speaking about it might help some of the other participants come to terms with it. McGee, up after DiNozzo, was his best hope.

Vance had tried to stop them from calling either Ziva David or Timothy McGee, citing potential future need for them to go undercover. Sam and the organisers of the inquiry had come short of laughing at him, but not by much. With what they had done to DiNozzo, sending either of them undercover would be signing their death warrants. Despite the best efforts of people like Sam, there were activities that law agencies traditionally turned a blind eye to. Backup being just a little too late for people who had broken the code was one of them.

The inquiry hadn’t gone into that. Instead they’d pointed out that if a proper request was made, the most probable concession would be that their appearances blurred on any televised testimony. Vance had given up at that point without requiring any further anonymity than any other witnesses. The ease at which he’d conceded made it clear that Vance didn’t expect the real damage to be to their ability to do undercover work – Vance expected it would be to their ability to be agents at all. Still, Sam had to give the man points for trying to protect at least some of his agents. He'd wondered, after the way Vance had been willing to sacrifice Gibbs and DiNozzo.

McGee had been another frequent victim on the slide-show, so the board was similarly gentle with him. Unlike DiNozzo who had barely seemed to notice, McGee held on to that as a life-line. He shook and stuttered and appeared all of twelve years old. The civilian members continued to look sympathetic, but the law enforcement members looked steadily less amused. Sam had wondered himself why someone like McGee had been made a field agent at all. Sam supposed that promoting a man out of his area of competency was another form of abuse. Why should NCIS miss any?

Once McGee had been warmed up, they delicately started with the hard questions.

“It has been claimed that the atmosphere within NCIS was substantially responsible for the incident in which Agent DiNozzo was left without backup in the field. Do you agree with that?” asked the chairman. He’d been a something in the FBI before he’d gone into politics, and Sam was unsurprised that the lack of backup was one of his major concerns.

“Absolutely. There was a lot of bullying going on in the office hiding behind the label of being 'practical jokes', and even more claiming just to be banter. As a junior agent, there weren't many opportunities to defend yourself or reply in kind, so it really wears you down. Especially since you're just meant to laugh it off, because you know, if you were a better agent you won't get caught or you wouldn't be hurt by it, and what would have happened if it had been a bad guy doing the same thing? They really convince you that it’s training and it’s good for you. So when… when _it_ happened, it just seemed like the perfect chance to show DiNozzo that if he was a better agent and stopped with all the comments, we'd pay more attention to him. It was a practical joke of our own, and pretty much the only way we had of establishing boundaries. The mind-set we were in, it just didn't occur to either of us that he might encounter actual danger.” 

That justification left a sour taste in Sam’s mouth, although he guessed that as far as rebellions went, it was better than McGee checking out a semi-automatic weapon and shooting as many people as he could until he was taken down.

“But you realise now that it was inappropriate?” The chairman sounded almost tentative in his disbelief.

“Oh yes. I should have filed a proper complaint years ago, and insisted on a professional environment were things like that would have seemed unthinkable.”

The chairman’s face hardened and Sam had a hard time not wincing himself. McGee made it sound like he’d been a puppet, manipulated by forces too powerful for him to fight. Sam was aware of the Milgram and Stanford Prison experiments, so he knew there was something in what McGee was implying. An utter disavowal of personal responsibility, however, didn’t sit well with him, and didn’t sit well with the board.

“Did you use these, ah, 'bullying' training techniques on those junior to you as well?”

“Junior to me?” McGee sounded like the concept had never occurred to him.

“Amongst others, Probationary Agent Ziva David?”

“Oh. Well, I was never really allowed to treat her as a junior. The only time when I had a real probie was when Tony was in charge.”

“I see,” said the chairman, sitting back and surrendering the questioning. Sam was willing to bet that what he saw wasn’t what McGee had been hoping to convey.

A civilian member took over and elicited a thorough account of the relentless daily abuse McGee considered himself subject to, although McGee refused to name his tormentors explicitly. His testimony was a little too enthusiastic to be entirely convincing, but no-one attempted to undercut him. The member who'd had the agenda the previous day seemed to be picking her battles. McGee was excused and Sam knew he couldn’t count him as a success. The boy might have done better and become a better person in a different environment, but the contemplation he must have done for the hearing hadn’t done him any good. He’d just found another way to exclude himself from the realities of his situation.

 

* * *

 

They didn't break before calling David and she sat down like she felt she was doing them a favour for even being there. Perhaps she did. Sam had wondered at several points in the investigation if she’d forgotten that she was an American citizen now, without any form of diplomatic immunity – official or otherwise. She’d thankfully not reached a position in NCIS in which she could do any major harm. Sam hoped this might prove a sharp warning for her.

Her opening statement was inflammatory. “This whole circus tent is absurd. There is no abuse in NCIS. In fact, I have found it stupidly oversensitive about such matters. I put one little bruise on an agent who should have been skilled enough to avoid it, and someone tries to throw the volume at me.”

“Someone tries to _what_?”

“Complains at me in loud volume.”

There was some giggling amongst the audience which she and the board ignored.

“Then what do you feel was responsible for the incident in which Agent DiNozzo was left without backup?”

“There is no bullying, but McGee is right that it was not the interacting of professionals. Everything was so much childish play that we could not tell when we were expected to be serious. I am still unfamiliar with some American ways, so I cannot always judge what is the right behaviour in the more boundary-line situations. I do as the other members of my team do, and in that case that was a mistake.”

Oh she had not… she had. She’d just claimed she was only following McGee’s example in what she’d done. _“_ _It wasn_ _’_ _t my fault, I was just obeying orders._ _”_ Sam seethed. For him to have had any sympathy for that position, he’d first have had to believe she was in the habit of following orders. Sam was willing to walk into a nest of fire ants if she’d ever, even once, done something just because McGee had suggested it. In that moment, Sam regretted not having taken the simple solution of simply pursuing McGee and David for endangerment. David had no right to act like she had been a victim in this matter. Not when the special treatment had been so strongly in her favour, and she’d exploited it at every opportunity.

The only gain her participation in this inquiry caused was making her flaws so obvious to so many people.

 

* * *

 

After lunch was the person everyone had been waiting for – Director Vance himself. His preliminary statement was pretty much what Sam was expecting.

“The NCIS team has a family atmosphere. I believe that with sufficient context, it would be apparent that the actions that have been highlighted in this investigation are counterbalanced by the underlying affection and concern the agents have for each other. I admit that some incidents have been excessively juvenile, and I have been encouraging the worst of offenders to move beyond that. However, overall the system has simply been an effective form of stress relief in a high stress environment.”

“Have you considered encouraging less violent and damaging forms of stress relief?”

“I think ‘damaging’ is a mischaracterisation of what has been happening. NCIS has a superlative record for closing cases, and I have naturally been reluctant to interfere too significantly with something that has been working well.”

“You call an agent being left in the field without backup ‘well’?”

“That was an unfortunate isolated incident. Believe me, it would have been properly taken care of if it had come through the proper channels.”

Yeah sure, thought Sam. He believed it would be properly swept under the rug, like everything else that reflected badly on Vance’s management record.

This was clearly the battle the SecNav’s plant had been waiting for, and she sat forward. “Is your reluctance to interfere also the reason why the members of the MCRT was left intact, despite the inappropriateness of some of those positions for the skill sets of the agents concerned?”

She carefully didn’t mention which she thought should have promoted and which demoted, but it hardly mattered.

“All the members of MCRT expressed their preference to remain together as a team, and once some issues regarding personnel were resolved, I saw no reason to disallow it.”

“In fact, it would be fair to say you saw no reason to disallow anything that Agent Gibbs wished to do.”

“Special Agent Gibbs was an experienced agent with an excellent record, and I believed he could be trusted to perform his duties appropriately. I should probably, in retrospect, have supervised him more closely, but there was no indication it was necessary.”

Hey - _“_ _It wasn_ _’_ _t my fault, I didn_ _’_ _t give any orders._ _”_ At the rate he was collecting excuses, Sam would soon have a full set.

“No indications? Special Agent Gibbs has an _excellent_ record of disobeying orders, assaulting his subordinates, and being involved in suspicious deaths. Tell me, isn’t it true that one of the mandates you were given when you assumed control of NCIS was to clean house and prevent incidents like this from occurring again?”

“I took the position with the intention of doing the best possible job I could, and I have done so.”

“Yes, we can all see that.”

The chairman called her – and the snickering audience – to order. She sat back satisfied. She’d done a fine job pinning the blame on Vance rather than his superiors. Sam couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for Vance.

 

* * *

 

The inquiry continued for an additional few days, but without much surprise. On the day it was concluded, the SecNav organised for the chairman of the inquiry board to have a few words with them. Sam was probably the only one in that conference room comfortable to be there as they waited. This was all strictly off the record, of course. The official findings and recommendations would be in a door-stopper of a book, but the SecNav was desperate for a head’s up.

The man arrived and started without preliminaries. “I hope no-one is going to try influence my decisions. I’d hate to have to waste my afternoon filing charges against you all.”

“Of course not,” said the SecNav insincerely. “We’re just hoping for some insight into the direction of the board’s thoughts.”

“Why? It isn’t going to help you much now.”

Vance spoke up. “It would be a tremendous help to us in determining how to keep NCIS functioning while awaiting the report.”

“As in, whether you need to start looking for new jobs?”

Vance visibly grit his teeth at that. “That’s not what I was asking. We need to know whether our agents can go into the field without risking the cases being overturned later because of recommendations of your board.”

“Personally, I think the whole bunch of them should be jailed, _including_ that DiNozzo guy, for being a bunch of dumb asses. Fortunately for all of you, it isn’t just up to me. I do not at this time foresee a recommendation for criminal charges to be filed against any individual. Whether it’s a good idea to actually send them into the field is another question, and one you’ve proven you’re not competent to answer.”

Vance was gripping the armrests of his seat and breathing through his nose by this point.

“The health and integrity of an entire cohort of agents has been screwed over by this. We’re not just going to let it go. We’ll be recommending harsher penalties – _much_ heavier penalties – for condoning or being criminally ignorant of abuse. We require oversight of federal agencies for a reason, and it isn’t just to make you feel important. If you want my advice, I’d be very contrite in public and very cautious in making any decisions. Now, I’ve spent all the time I intend to speaking to you people.”

The chairman tipped an imaginary hat and walked out. His attitude said more than his words – the man no longer considered either the SecNav or the Director in a position to owe him future favours.

Sam hoped that the new measures the board proposed would help. There were new generations coming, that would hopefully believe that they did have the right and the duty to look after each other. That their well-being was more important than their job performance. That the sacrifices that had been made in this inquiry meant something. It was hopes like that that allowed him to continue doing his job when something like this could be the end result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end, but I'll post a short epilogue in the next few days. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Epilogue

A year later, DiNozzo walked through the door of Sam’s office to tell him they’d be filming on location soon.

“ _You’re_ the project officer?” Sam asked, forgetting his manners in his surprise.

“Yep! Here to make sure that when the show departs from reality in a major way, then at least it was intentional. Well, more to make sure that the show presents the military in a positive light, but I sneak in what I can.”

“Do they listen to you?”

“They do if they want to retain the DoD’s very generous support. And it’s very generous. You have no idea the cool toys they get to play with. Toys _we_ were never allowed to play with.”

“I'm looking forward to watching it, then.”

“Yeah, it's going to be cool.”

Sam told himself not to carry on any further. He would be prying into matters that were none of his business. And besides, how much worse would he feel if he found out DiNozzo was bitter and damaged and resentful? But without conscious control, he found himself asking, “Are you enjoying your work?”

“You know what? I think I am. It’s not the same, of course, but it's worthwhile in it's own way. And I’m sleeping better, I’m getting back in shape, and I’m rediscovering what socialising means. I think the job is doing me good.”

“You are looking better.” Now that Sam wasn't so nervous, he could see that DiNozzo was. It wasn’t so much the weight loss as the ease of his shoulders and the lack of tension around his eyes. One of the monsters he hadn't realised had been squirming in his stomach since the inquiry finally went silent.

Sam hesitated, then decided he could cope with being considered an insensitive gossip. “Have you stayed in touch with anyone?”

“Gibbs, actually. I was expecting him to tell me never to darken his door again, but he’s made a lot of effort to keep in contact with me. We talk less often now, obviously, but we _say_ more to each other than we have for years. It’s weird. It’s kind of like meeting an old friend again after a long break. He hasn’t apologised, because Gibbs doesn’t, but he did tell me he was wrong not to push for me to have my own team.”

“Wow.”

Tony shrugged. “We solved cases, and I can never be unhappy about that, but the rest? I’m just as much to blame as they are for the relationships we ended up in. But this is getting to be good again. I think Gibbs is lonelier than he cares to admit.”

“I take it he isn’t doing well with retirement.”

“I don’t think he would ever have really retired if it had been up to him. I’m still a bit surprised he let the new director force him into it. Actually, I find it pretty scummy that they demoted him just before his retirement. If you’re going to punish someone, punish them. Don’t play games with their pension.”

“I don’t disagree, but any straightforward punishment would probably have had far more severe consequences for Mr Gibbs. The demotion and retirement might well have been his choice.”

Tony shrugged. “Well, I guess. I suppose with the rest of the team had already scattered, it would have just been Abby he was staying for.”

“Ms Scuito?”

“Yeah. She really doesn’t cope well without Gibbs’ protection. They’ve put her on stress leave, now.”

“Oh. I didn't realise it had become that bad. Do you think she’ll be able to return to her job soon?”

“I actually hope for her sake that she doesn’t. She ought to take a job in the civilian sector were they're willing to work around her. I mean, I can see in retrospect that it was unhealthy for her to be so dependent on Gibbs and the rest of us, but the new system is trying to make her into an entirely different person. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of things I admire in the new system, but it doesn’t really allow for the idiosyncrasies of individuals.”

Considering Sam didn't really approve of that kind of idiosyncrasy either, it seemed wisest not to reply to that statement. DiNozzo didn’t seem to mind Sam’s curiosity, so Sam indulged in some more of it. “Where did the rest of the team disappear to?”

“Well, you know what I'm doing, now. I honestly have no idea what happened to Ziva after she failed her probationary review and quit. If this was an action thriller, I’d say she’s been given plastic surgery and a new name, and is deep undercover by herself somewhere. But I think she’s just holed up somewhere sulking. I don’t think it ever occurred to her that it was possible for her to fail, and it would have hit her pretty hard.”

“You sound guilty about that,” said Sam. He had learnt a lot about how to read DiNozzo over the course of the investigation, and some of it seemed to have stuck.

“I guess I do. She gave up her family for us, and now she doesn’t have anything. She was _my_ probie, and it was my job to make sure she was trained properly. She’s had a rough time, and we should have done better by her.”

“She should have done better by you as well.”

“Yes, and maybe she would have, had we given her clearer guidelines on appropriate behaviour. We’ll never know now. But don’t worry, I don’t feel too guilty. It’s all on her that she didn’t stay in NCIS and try to adapt. ”

Sam thought any amount of guilt on DiNozzo's part was too much, but he let it go. “And McGee?”

“Tim’s back in cybercrime. I suspect someone told him it was just until there was another agent position available to stop him from quitting as well. He keeps applying for every senior field agent position that comes up.”

“ _Senior_ agent?” asked Sam, bemused.

“Apparently he thinks he’s been ready for it for years, and it was only because of all that abuse that was going around that he wasn’t promoted before.”

“What is he thinking? Frankly, I wouldn’t have thought many team leads would be willing to risk him even as a probationary agent, but maybe someone might have given him a chance if he’d applied for _those_ roles.”

“Oh, he would have been accepted. He might have needed some more hand holding, but he was shaping up to be a good agent. If he’d just taken his lumps and shown some desire to be a better agent, then someone would have stepped in. They'd have done it as a favour to me, if nothing else. But I guess he learnt his pride at Gibbs’ knee. It gets worse for him, though, because he’s totally destroyed his chances. He mouthed off about all the team leads refusing him because they’re intimidated by his intellect and his superior skills, and well, gossip spreads. He’ll have to join the fisheries service in Alaska to escape his reputation now.”

Sam didn't want to imply that a position of project officer of a television show wasn't as good as being a real agent, but, well, it wasn't. “And you? Do you see yourself staying in this job long-term? I heard you were offered quite a few positions in the other agencies.”

“Yeah, that was a shock. I really never expected that. Perhaps, I will, when I’ve had a little more time to figure out who I am. I’ve been too busy trying to be the person everyone wants me to be.”

Sam figured he owed DiNozzo some openness in return for DiNozzo's own. Staring at the desk between them, Sam said, “I can’t help but feel that if I’d done my job better, you would have kept your career.”

“Don’t. Seriously, there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about. You know, If Tim and Ziva had just let me yell at them for turning off the sound, I would have let it go and that would have been disastrous. I’d have stayed on the team for years, trying to pretend to be the SFA while everyone else treated me like the comic relief. At some point they would have convinced me they were right, and that's what I would have become. So, yes, I wish things could have been solved without all the fuss. But I don’t regret having come to you, and you shouldn’t either.”

Sam accepted that like the gift that it was. “Thank you.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before DiNozzo excused himself to carry on with his work. Sam sat back in his chair, just breathing for a while. DiNozzo looked and sounded fine. NCIS had carried on under new leadership, and still solved crimes, and the world still hadn't ended. The remaining agents were all very careful about their professional limits and acceptable behaviour, and the new agents were coming up believing that anything else was unthinkable.

Sam thought about all of that, and tried to convince himself that was worth it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Stay tuned for other stories in the same series :)


End file.
